


Thorndyke's War

by Vitalis



Category: Gone With the Wind - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Historical, Confederate Army, Confederate Victory, Damien - Freeform, F/M, Scarlett - Freeform, indians - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-29 08:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitalis/pseuds/Vitalis
Summary: Damien Thorndyke is a captain in the army, and has just moved into the small community outside of Jonesboro that we all know and love.  When he meets the O'Haras, and a war looms, where American is pitted against American, what happens?  Confederate victory AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Thorndyke’s War  
Chapter 1**

It was the summer of 1860, and someone new had moved into the neighborhood.  The blonde haired, green eyed Damien Cornelius Thorndyke was a captain in the Second Georgia Cavalry, a regiment of dragoons stationed out west.  He’d struck out on his own after learning that his older brother Zacharias would be inheriting the family plantation.  Parting on good terms with his parents, they agreed to give him a monthly stipend to help him along.  After buying the plantation and all of its slaves, he decided that cotton would be the main crop of the place, with its other crops being the peaches growing in the orchards, out of which would be made peach wine.  He was currently going over the books.  Profits were down from last month.  A slave stood behind him and said, “Hopefully we can turn this place around.”  “Hopefully so.  Why has it not been making as much money?”  “because,” the slave said sadly.  “Our last master treated us cruel.”  Damien slammed down his pen, spilling ink all over the table.  “Oh, that _cannot_ stand!” he thundered.  “His tyranny is _over_ , and I guarantee that!  Where’s the overseer?”  “Why he’s in the fields yonder, sir.”  Damien placed the quill back in the inkwell and found two slaves.  “Excuse me, but I’ve spilled ink on my new desk… would one of you please clean it?  Would the other one of you kindly send for the overseer?”  The slaves, taken aback by the politeness of Damien’s request, sped off to do his bidding.

            When his desk was clean, Damien called the overseer in.  “I understand,” said Damien, “that the last man whose employ you were under mistreated these workers… and _you_ were his overseer.”  The man nodded.  “Yes sir,” he said.  “I’ll keep you on as my overseer, but know this: if you mistreat my workers, you’ll get the boot.”  “Clear as crystal, sir.”  Damien smiled.  “Good.  Now get back to work, we’re burning sunshine.”  The overseer returned to his duties, and Damien heard a knock at his main door.  A few moments later, a slave informed him that the O’Haras had come to pay him a visit.  “You’ll send them in, please?” Damien said, heading to the foyer.  “Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara,” he said happily.  “Welcome to the new Thorndyke Plantation.  And who might these young ladies be?”  “Oh,” said Ellen, the older man’s wife.  “Why this is Scarlett, the eldest, this is Suellen, and this is Careen, my youngest.”  The three curtsied.  “Salutations, ladies,” he said, bowing in return.  “Would you fine people like to stay for dinner?  I hear my new cook is rather handy with collard greens.”  “I see no reason why not,” said the older man.  “I’m Gerald O’Hara… This is my wife Ellen.”  Damien bowed to the older O’Haras, and then smiled.  “Dinner’s not for a while.  About three hours in fact, which gives you a choice.  Would you like to simply come back later, or stay?  I understand if you’ve business elsewhere.”  “Oh, why stay and fraternize, of course!” said Gerald enthusiastically.  “We’ve no business that has to be taken care of in too soon a timeframe.”

            “Snacks, anyone?”  “We’re not really hungry at this point,” said Gerald.  He looked to his daughter.  “Why Katie Scarlett, you’re all smiles.”  Scarlett nodded.  “This is a nice place,” she said.  “Bright, airy… it looked rather large as we pulled in.”  “Ah, it’s four walls and a roof,” said Damien casually, “nothing to crow about.”  Scarlett chuckled softly.  “Why, Captain Thorndyke,” she said gently, “surely you place more stock in your house and your land than _that_.”  Damien smiled back.  “My dear Miss O’Hara, if you only knew the plight of a soldier,” he said, “you’d be rather glad to sleep in a real house instead of a musty cotton tent.”  Scarlett chuckled again.  “Is life in the army really that bad?” “Worse,” Damien remarked.  “Besides the mud and the disease, you also have to deal with death, some of which you have to regrettably cause.  I don’t like killing, but we do what we must for our homes and our freedoms.”  Scarlett demurely folded her hands in front of her.  “But surely you’ve family to talk to about these things,” she said, “and besides, surely you’d rather this be a happy occasion.”  Damien nodded.  “I would, so… let’s change the subject, yes?”

            “So,” said Gerald, “what’s to eat?”  “Whatever my cook decides to make.  I let _him_ choose tonight.”  Of the three O’Hara girls, Scarlett did most of the talking.  When Damien had his say, she listened with rapt attention.  At dinner, the conversation turned to the future.  “So, this war people say is brewing… what do you make of it?”  “It’ll be hard fought,” said Damien, “but my men have cut our teeth on the Indians, and I’m sure we can win, if we play our cards right.”  He leaned forward.  “We don’t have very much industrialization, but as a cotton planter, I’m talking to some Yankee factory owners in Atlanta.  Now, they’re Yankees, yes, but in terms of the war, they’re on the fence.  So I’m trying to convince them to set up shop in the South, and show them why _we_ are the better choice… as I sell them my cotton so they can get their mills going.”  “Selling to Yankees, but you have an ulterior motive,” said Gerald, “so I’m conflicted, Captain.”  “Ah, but I’m sure your daughters would rather talk about other things besides war and secession.”  “Well I can’t argue that.”  Scarlett smiled.  “War, war, war,” she said boredly.  “All this talk of war and politics.  Honestly, you men… I get so bored I could scream.”  Damien chuckled.  “Then I’ll try not to bore you,” he replied.  “Careen,” said Ellen, “Do say something.”  Caren smiled demurely.  “I would rather there wouldn’t be a war,” she said timidly.  “Me too,” said Damien, “but if there is, I’ll fight, and I’ll fight for the South.”

            When the O’Haras left, Gerald smiled.  “That Captain Thorndyke,” he said, “I tell ye, what a capital man!  You’d do well to keep talking to him.  He didn’t buy the biggest plantation here, but he did buy a respectable one, and you’d be a fool to ignore that.”  When they got home, Scarlett went to her room in a state of deep contemplation.  She sat on her bed and sighed when she’d changed into her nightgown.  Damien seemed rather nice, but Ashley Wilkes was the one Scarlett loved.  She sighed as she thought of him, and went to sleep dreaming of becoming Mrs. Ashley Wilkes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

In August of 1860, duty had called again, and Captain Thorndyke was in Fort Buchanan, named for the sitting President, in Indian Territory.  Currently, he was in the office of Colonel John Philias Remington, receiving orders.  “Thorndyke,” he said, “the Indians are getting out of hand, and we need to put an end to it!  There’s a war party headed for this fort, intent on taking it.  Gather the men to fight them, I’ll be along soon.”  The two men exchanged salutes, and Damien rallied his troops.  Riding back and forth on his horse in front of two thousand mounted soldiers.  “Half of you,” said Damien, “will stay behind in case the natives try to sneak into the fort.  The other half is coming with me.  We don’t have time to draw lots, so here’s what I’m doing.  I want odd divisions to the left and even divisions to the right.  _Move_!”  This was done.  “Those on the left, it’s your lucky day.  You get to stay home.  Those on the right, it’s time to fight us some Injuns!”  Damien, with a thousand men at his back, walked out of the fort.  Colonel Remington caught up to him a few minutes later.  “Sorry I’m late, Thorndyke, but I had paperwork to do.”  “Let’s kill us some savages, sir!” Damien said enthusiastically.  “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

            The men closed up formation as the enemy approached.  The colonel then ordered a charge, and Damien joined his fellows in hacking, slashing, and stabbing at the natives.  A charge-withdraw-charge tactic was to be used.  After doing this for the fourth time, a shout Damien didn’t want uttered came forth from the throat of one of the men.  “ _Remington’s dead_!”  Damien barked a curse as his men fell back, spurring Indomitable on.  Stopping in front of the men, he shouted, “Where do you think you’re going, damn it?!  We’ve got Injuns to kill!”  “But sir! The colonel’s dead!  We’ve surely lost.”  “No, Sergeant,” Damien replied.  “Not while _I’m_ breathing we haven’t.  Why when Gustavus Adolphus fell in battle at Leutzen do you think his soldiers gave up and ran?  _Hell no_!  They kept fighting and _won_!  So come on, you rats!  What do you want to live forever?!”  “Well Captain,” said a soldier, “they’ve not only killed our colonel, but they killed a great man and strategist, _and_ we lost a quarter of our force!”  “As acting colonel, I say this,” said Damien as the Indians kept coming.  “Whoever joins me in this next attack will have their pay doubled.  Now… form a three-rank column and loop around to their right.  I have a plan.”

            “Vengeance for Remington!” one of the men screamed as they galloped along.  When they reached their destination, Damien ordered a halt.  “Turn those mounts to the right and wait.”  They faced the enemy combatants, and Damien smiled.  “Company will fire by rank!” he commanded.  “On my order!  Ready!”  The Indians charged forward, letting out war whoops and screams of defiance.  “Aim!”  Arms were leveled.  Damien waited for a few more moments, when they were almost at point blank range.  “ _Fire_!”  The men’s guns spoke their piece effectively as Indians fell by the dozens.  They retreated, and Damien smiled.  His plan was working, but they’d probably be back.  “Wedge formation, and loop to their flanks!”  The men formed up as they cantered.  The Indians were starting to regroup.  Damien flourished his saber.  “For Colonel Remington,” he shouted, “for the Second Georgian Regiment of Dragoons, and for the glorious South…  _Charge_!”  When it was over, the Indians’ numbers were reduced to a negligible amount.  Damien’s uniform was soaked in blood, and he’d lost half of his force as well as his commanding officer.  Nevertheless, they returned to Fort Buchanan triumphant.

            Damien hobbled to the infirmary as fast as he could, and a nurse tended his wounds.  “That’s a lot of blood,” she remarked as Damien divested himself of everything but his boxers and his socks.  “But we can get you up and around again, no problem.”  He smiled as she worked, growling as whiskey was poured into his wounds to clean them.  “SO what did you do to get so busted up?”  Damien smiled, weak from blood loss.  “Killed Indians, of course,” he rasped.  “Our colonel fell in action, so I had to take the reins.  We won, but it was hard fought, and now I have to write to the families of five hundred good men.”  The nurse finished her work, and Damien felt like his head was full of silk.  He guzzled water like it was the last bit on Earth, and then lay back on his cot and fell asleep.  He had to regain his strength, as well as the blood he’d lost.  When he woke up, he was groggy, but alive and once again full of good blood.  He woke up to see a new uniform hanging by his bedside.  After he put it on, he headed to his office.  “Sir, a dispatch has been sent to Fort Gibson.  Expect a reply shortly.”

            When the reply came, it came in the form of an infantry colonel.  He had assembled the men and summoned Damien to the center of the fort.  “Damien Thorndyke,” said the colonel.  “In a recent communication sent to me by a Major Jeffery Carlson, it stated that you, after your colonel was killed in action, took command of the force of which he was in charge.  You acted with initiative, courage, and decision, rallying your men and defeating the enemy.”  Damien nodded.  “I know no man in my regiment to be a liar, sir,” he said plainly.  “Thorndyke… this regiment needs a new colonel.  I say you’re more than fit for the job.  The two men saluted and shook hands.  “Congratulations, Colonel Thorndyke.”  The other colonel left after handing a box to Damien, who took it to his quarters as the men cheered.  He opened it, finding his new colonel’s uniform along with a medal for valor, and a medal for wounds sustained in battle.  Damien was proud of his new promotion.  He’d only been promoted to captain due to seniority, having joined the army at the age of sixteen and being eighteen now.

            It was a few days later that a native was admitted into Damien’s office.  “Hello there,” he said.  “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.  Now… what is it you would discuss with me, hmm?”   The man cleared his throat.  “You and your men slew many of our warriors,” he said.  “We did, I admit it,” Damien said.  “Apologies, but… my colonel told me that you attacked us.”  “No, that’s not right.  We were about to go to war with a neighboring tribe for food that they stubbornly refuse to trade with us, though they have it in abundance.  We attacked you because you had set foot on sacred ground.”  Damien leaned forward.  “My apologies,” he said.  “I didn’t know, and apparently, neither did Colonel Remington.  Well, I’m the colonel now, and as such we won’t be attacking you unless you attack first.  I’d rather shake hands than cross blades with you.”  “We will see what your actions tell us,” said the native, “but for the time being, we will trade with you.”  Damien nodded as they shook hands, and then the native left.  He then set about filling out papers, like his predecessor before him, as he mulled over the last battle, and how he could improve his tactics and sustain fewer casualties.


	3. Chapter 3

It was December twenty-third of 1860 now, and Colonel Damien Thorndyke had been granted a furlough for the impending holiday.  He was in Atlanta, passing through town with a smile.  He’d been invited to a party the O’Haras were having, and it would start at noon. It was eight o’clock in the morning as he left town after a breakfast of biscuits and gravy and ham.  The previous night, he’d attended his own family’s Christmas party and told them all about his new life and how he missed the old plantation.  “Ah cheer up, Damien,” his father had said, “it’s just like fighting the Injuns, but with less risk to you!”  Damien had had an excellent time, but he had to return to his new plantation and see to its running while the slaves in the laundry cleaned and pressed his full dress uniform.  When he finally got home, riding at a leisurely pace on his black horse, Indomitable, he headed in the house to look at the books. 

“Ooh why Master Damien, things have been mighty fine while you was away!” said his valet cheerfully.  “Money’s been good, the overseer’s been as kind as could be, and some of our womenfolk had children!”  “Good,” said Damien.  “Things appear to be looking up.”  “Ah, this came for you,” said the valet.  “Thank you, Thomas,” said Damien as he took the small card from his hands.  He chuckled in surprise.  Why, this was Miss Scarlett’s calling card!  “Well, I’ll greet her myself,” said Damien.  “When did this come?”  “Yesterday, sir.  It was Missus Ellen what came and gave it to me out of respect for her daughter’s virtue.  She said Miss Scarlett would mighty ‘ppreaciate seein’ you when you’d come home.”  Damien smiled at that.  The O’Haras had become fast friends of his since he’d moved in, but there were a few who didn’t take too kindly to his presence: most notably, the Tarleton twins.  He chuckled. “Oh those damned Tarletons,” he said to himself as he waited for the O’Haras’ buggy to come down the driveway.

At Tara, a rather fat slave came waddling into Scarlett O’Hara’s bedroom.  “Hello Mammy,” said Scarlett softly as she smoothed out her skirts.  “You look rather pleased to see me.”  “Oh you haven’t heard?” Mammy replied.  “Why, Cap’n Thorndyke’s back from out west!”  “Thorndyke…” Scarlett muttered.  She then gasped.  “Captain Thorndyke!  Oh well I have to call on him!”  Scarlett and her mother waited while the buggy was hitched, and then off they went, pulled by two horses.  When they arrived at the Thorndyke Plantation, they walked to the Veranda, where Damien was sitting in a wicker chair, drinking a mint julep.  He rose to his feet, put down his drink, and smiled.  “Well hello there,” he said.  “Would any of you like a drink?”  “Well,” said Ellen.  “Does this place still grow peaches?”  “Of course,” said Damien.  “I’ve got wine _and_ juice.”  “Oh!  Wine, please,” said Ellen.  “I’ll just… have some juice, please,” said Scarlett.  “I don’t want it going to my head.”  She walked over to Damien, holding out her hand, which he took and kissed very tenderly.  She batted her eyelashes, blushed, and smiled.  “Well now,” she said softly, “aren’t _you_ a charmer?”  “If you say so, Miss O’Hara,” said Damien, smiling.  “I’ll be seeing you at the Christmas party, won’t I?” she asked as she took her drink from a silver tray.  “Of course,” said Damien.  “I’m rather fond of parties.  Why I just came home from one with my family.”  “And how are they doing?”  “Fit as horses,” said Damien proudly, “ _and_ I’m a colonel now!”  Scarlett cocked her head.  “Why I thought you were a captain!  What happened to your old colonel?”  “Died in battle,” said Damien.  “Oh… my condolences to your regiment on their loss.”  “Thank you, Miss O’Hara,” Damien answered.

“Did you hear anything about the Wilkeses?” Scarlett asked.  “I ask because I heard that Ashley Wilkes was to marry his cousin, Melanie Hamilton, and it’d been arranged since June.”  “I heard the same,” said Damien, “but since I haven’t spoken with Mr. Wilkes myself, I’m afraid I can’t confirm it.”  Scarlett shrugged.  “Perhaps it’s just a rumor,” she said.  “Wilkeses tend to intermarry as well, so I have to take that into account.”  Ellen just nodded.  “Well now,” said Damien, “it’s not my business, but the question just might arise as to why you’re concerned… I understand that they’re family friends of the O’Haras but…”  Scarlett smiled, electing to tell him, as he put forth a trustworthy air.  “Well if I tell you,” she said warningly, “don’t go telling anyone else.  I might have to get mighty angry with you if you did.”  Damien held up his right hand.  “I swear on the Holy Scripture and the Ninety-Five Theses of the Protestant Reformation that I won’t tell a soul,” he said solemnly.  “I…” Scarlett sighed.  “I’ve had my eye on Ashley Wilkes for a while,” she said.  “If… if he really _is_ to marry Melanie Hamilton, then…”  She hung her head.  “Then that would upset you,” said Damien softly.  “Yes,” Scarlett whispered.  “And you… can’t stand the thought.  So you want to make sure that the rumors are false.” 

Scarlett nodded.  “I’m sorry to bother you with this, Colonel, but…”  Damien smiled.  “Miss O’Hara, I was the one who asked, and it seems to me that I’ve upset you terribly.”  Scarlett shook her head.  “You asked, and I chose to answer.  If I felt you’d upset me, I would’ve declined.”  “It’s good to know you’re alright,” said Damien.  “I don’t like to see a lady upset.  Why… my first instinct is to find out what’s wrong and correct it at once.”  Ellen smiled.  “What an absolute gentleman,” she said.  “Going out of his way to see to a lady’s happiness… why your parents should be so proud of raising you that way!”  Damien smiled.  “Excessive pride is a sin,” he said, “but a little’s good.”  “It’s a pity Suellen doesn’t seem to know that.” “Scarlett!” said Ellen chidingly.  “No, no, it’s alright,” said Damien.  “I’m not offended in the least.”  “As you say, Colonel,” Ellen replied.  “It’s your house.”  “Go ahead, Miss O’Hara,” said Damien invitingly.  “Well Suellen’s a spoiled brat, frankly, and I’m glad to be away from her for a while.”  Ellen walked into the other room, and Scarlett continued.  “Why just yesterday, she stole my dress so she could wear it to a Christmas party in Jonesboro, _without even asking anyone_!  She just stole off into the night, and let me tell you, Captain Thorndyke, she received a sound tongue-lashing when she got home!”  Damien chuckled.  “I don’t doubt it in the least,” he said.  “Everyone knows you don’t steal your sister’s dress and steal off to a party without telling anybody.”

Damien felt an overwhelming sense of duty.  Scarlett was pouring her heart out to him!  He had to lock those secrets up, and see to her happiness at the same time, and he mentally steeled himself for the challenge.  He smiled.  “Well, if the rumors are true, then… well we’ve been friends for a few months, so I can say this… then I’m here for you if you need help.”  Scarlett smiled.  “Thank you,” she said.  Ellen walked back into the room.  “Lunch, anyone?”  Damien offered.  “Just a small lunch,” said Ellen.  “Sandwiches will be fine.”  “Not a problem.  Just tell my valet Thomas what you’d like, and he’ll relay your message to the cook, who’ll bring it up forthwith.”  After the sandwiches were ready, lunch was taken in the foyer.  “Well now,” said Ellen, “isn’t this just the nicest thing?  Having lunch in the foyer and letting the air in.”  Damien smiled.  “Sometimes,” he said, “I’ll even eat outside in the backyard under a tree.”  Scarlett smiled.  “That sounds lovely,” she said.  “It is indeed,” said Damien, “especially when there’s a breeze.”  “Do you eat under the peach trees?”  Damien smiled.  “And sometimes I’ll pick and eat one for desert if it’s ripe.”

When she got home, Scarlett sighed.  The party had been postponed until tomorrow, and Scarlett had already chosen a dress: a dark green one with ruffled straps meant to hang off of the shoulders.  “Scarlett,” said Suellen in a singsong voice.  “How’s Captain Thorndyke?”  “ _Colonel_ Thorndyke,” said Scarlett impatiently, “and he’s doing alright,” said Scarlett.  “Why, I just got back from his house with mother.”  “Has he proposed to you yet?”  Scarlett blushed deeply.  “ _What_?!  Oh, _do_ shut up, Susan Ellinor!”  Suellen gasped dramatically.  “Ooh…” she said, dragging it out.  “Wait ‘till Ashley hears about _this_!”  “Don’t you _dare_!” said Scarlett.  “Oh don’t you _even_ consider it!”  Suellen made a show of thinking for a few seconds.  “Hmmm…” she muttered.  “Alright, I won’t tell,” she said brightly.  Scarlett sighed with relief.  “But there _is_ one thing you can do for me…”  “Oh no,” Scarlett whispered.  “Anything but…”  Suellen grinned from ear to ear.  “Susan Ellinor O’Hara, that’s _quite_ enough!”  Gerald stood behind her with a stern look on his face.  “Look at how terribly you’ve upset Katie Scarlett!”  “Yes, Pa,” said Suellen sadly, hanging her head.  “There’s a girl,” said Gerald.  “Now, no more teasing your sister about the captain.”  “Colonel, Pa,” Scarlett corrected.  “Colonel!” said Gerald.  “Good show on his part, I say!”

Meanwhile, Damien was receiving no less a person than Ashley Wilkes.  “Mr. Wilkes,” Damien said enthusiastically as they shook hands.  “I understand congratulations are in order.”  “Congratulations, captain?”  Damien grinned.  “Why yes, I’ve been hearing some rumors since I moved here, and I need them verified while you’re here.”  “Well of course Captain, what have you heard?  Is it about me and Melly?”  “Yes indeed, good sir, I understand you two are to marry. My felicitations.”  Ashley smiled proudly.  “The rumors, sir, are true.”  “Well isn’t that just the thing?” said Damien.  “Turns out I’ve been promoted to colonel after my old commander’s death in action, as well as valorous acts.”  “Well it seems we _both_ are deserving of kudos are we not?”  The two men laughed.  “I’d tell Scarlett of my engagement, Colonel, but it’s almost Christmas, for God’s sake!  I can’t ruin her Christmas, why… it just isn’t called for!”  “What you say’s true, but if I’m not there for Scarlett when she finds out the truth, what kind of friend am I?”  Ashley paced the floor in thought.  “True…” he muttered.  “This is something for me to consider,” he said.  “Will you be pondering over lunch?”  “I’d love to, but Melanie’s here, and I’ve got to see to her.”  Damien smiled.  “I agree.  That’s important.”  Ashley left, and Damien went back to his study to pore over the logs and figures.


	4. Chapter 4

At the Christmas party, Scarlett was standing on the landing overlooking the foyer of Tara when she saw Colonel Thorndyke and Ashley conversing, and walked down the stairs. Ashley and Damien looked at Scarlett.  “Good morning, Ashley,” she said softly, “Colonel Thorndyke.”  They stood as she approached.  “Good morning, Miss O’Hara,” said Damien.  “Hello, Scarlett,” said Ashley.  “Well, here we are… Christmas.  And what better way to celebrate than a lavish party and a ball?”  Ashley nodded.  “I completely agree Miss O’Hara,” Damien said.  Scarlett smiled.  “Scarlett,” she corrected gently.  “As you say, Scarlett,” he said, “and if that’s the case, then if you call me Damien, I won’t raise a fuss at all.”  “Ashley, there’s… there’s something I have to tell you.  _“Here it comes…”_ Damien thought.  “If you don’t mind,” said Damien, “I’ll be in the library.  This doesn’t look like my conversation.”  He left with a bow.

            “He’s right… this probably _is_ a private affair.  Perhaps we should retire to the parlor.”  They walked to the parlor, Scarlett positively beaming.  When they arrived, Ashley cleared his throat.  “Continue,” he said invitingly.  “Ashley, we… I…”  She hung her head.  “I have to say that I’ve… had designs on you for… quite some time.  I’m sorry, but… I had to say it at some point, and the rumors circulating that you’re marrying Melanie Hamilton, why… they’ve been weighing so heavily on me!”  Her voice rose slightly.  “Ashley I love you, and nothing can change that!  Oh please, say you love me, Ashley.  Please!”  She grabbed her hoops.  “ _Please_!”Ashley sighed and knitted his eyebrows together.  “That’s… well…”  Scarlett waited in anticipation, breathing heavily.  “I’m afraid, Scarlett that… that those rumors… are true.”  Scarlett’s mouth opened in shock as tears started to fall from her eyes.  “But… but you _can’t_ marry Melanie!” she exclaimed.  “You… you love _me_!  You…”  She sighed.  Ashley struggled to find his tongue, and then said.  “Scarlett I… I care for you very deeply, but… but I have a duty to my family…”  “But… but surely…”  Ashley sighed.  “I’m marrying Melanie, Scarlett, because I love her, and that’s what I have to do.  She and I are so much like each other, Scarlett.  I admire the fact that you have a zest for life that I don’t possess, but… Melanie and I we… it feels like we’re the same person.”  He shook his head.  “I’m sorry.”  “Ashley,” Scarlett said, her voice above a whisper.  “I’m sorry,” he said again.  “I had to tell you sometime.  I don’t like telling you at this time of year any more than you like hearing bad news at this point.”  He kissed her forehead and left.

            Scarlett stood rooted to her spot like a statue.  She was heartbroken.  She couldn’t believe it… Ashley was marrying his _cousin_ , in typical Wilkes fashion.  She sighed, finally sitting on the sofa to nurse her wounds.  That was when Damien entered, probably to get away from the party for a while and collect his energy before socializing again.  “Scarlett,” he said gently, seeing her sitting there with her face in her hand.  “Is something the matter?”  “Why?” Scarlett said thickly.  “Why does Ashley have to send these… these conflicting messages?”  Damien sat next to Scarlett and sighed.  “Told you, did he?”  Scarlett nodded.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.  I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas, and besides… when you’re told about Ashley’s life is up to _him_ , now isn’t it?”  Scarlett let forth a trembling sigh, just nodding.  “I can’t believe this,” she whispered shakily.  She looked to the door, thanking God no one had thought to come in here, but seeing Ellen watching the two as was, of course, proper.  Damien turned his head and allowed himself a small smile.  He sighed softly and said simply, in a soft voice, “Scarlett…”  She turned her head to look at him.  “Damien,” she said, her voice thick with tears.  She hung her head, sniffling.  “My… my heart’s broken.”  Damien very gently… tentatively, even… took Scarlett’s small, warm hands in his own.  This small gesture gave her a feeling of comfort as she looked into his green eyes.  She saw Ellen nod to herself, signaling that this wasn’t a tawdry action on Damien’s part.  She couldn’t hold it in anymore.  Try as she might, she just couldn’t.  She threw her arms around Damien and sobbed uncontrollably.

            Damien sighed.  He absolutely _hated_ seeing Scarlet upset, especially _this_ upset.  He gently wrapped his arms around her, saying nothing.  “What happened?” said Gerald, who’d just walked in on the scene.  “Why’s my Katie Scarlett so upset?”  “She found out that Ashley Wilkes was marrying Melanie Hamilton,” said Damien, “the hard way.”  Damien rocked Scarlett very gently as he held her close.  “Oh,” said Gerald.  Ellen walked in next.  “She found out, did she?” she asked somberly.  Damien just nodded, continuing to hold Scarlett as she cried, stroking her soft hair.  She clung to Damien like he was the only real thing in the world as her parents watched.  “I’m here, Scarlett,” he said gently.  “I’m here… your parents are here…”  Scarlett looked into Damien’s eyes again, her own eyes puffed from crying.  Damien gently wiped her tears away, and as he did, she felt a pleasant feeling spread through her frame.  “Damien,” she whispered hoarsely.  “It could be worse,” said Damien, smiling sheepishly.  “You could be fighting Indians.”  Scarlett allowed her mouth to curl into a gentle smile.  “Damien,” she said softly.  “Why can’t I stay upset around you?”  “Are you feeling a little better?” asked Ellen.  Scarlett nodded.  “A bit,” said Scarlett.  “I have to go and freshen up.”  She squeezed Damien’s hands in her own.  “Thank you, Damien,” she whispered, her smile growing.

            “You’re a damn fine man, Damien Thorndyke,” she heard Gerald say as she headed to her room.  When she got there, she cleaned off her face and smiled.  She couldn’t stay upset too long around Damien.  Presents would be opened tomorrow.  Today was just a gift exchange.  She wondered what she was getting this year.  She felt a sting in her chest as she realized she wasn’t getting Ashley, but the feeling passed.  That was when she realized it.  She gasped, marveling at her apparent stupidity.  Why… the answer was right under her nose!  If Ashley didn’t love her, then… She smiled triumphantly, adjusting her hoops and confidently walking back downstairs, where Damien was bantering with her parents.  She left them to their conversation and laughter and decided to chat with the Tarletons.  “Why hello, boys,” said Scarlett.  “Scarlett honey, what’s wrong?” asked Stuart.  “Why we heard you cryin’ in the parlor as we walked by while we were socializin’.”  Scarlett smiled.  “Oh, Ashley Wilkes told me he was marrying Melanie Hamilton, and… frankly, I was heartbroken, but… it’s all right now.” 

“Why we never knew you to get over heartbreak so quickly,” observed Brent.  “Is that Thorndyke character bothering you, by the way?”  Scarlett scoffed.  “Oh, you boys and your hatred of the colonel are things I’ll _never_ understand!  In fact it was Colonel Thorndyke who stopped me crying and cheered me up!”  “Are you sure?” Stuart asked, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.  “Because if he’s not treating you right, we could…” “Stuart and Brent Tarleton,” Scarlett said with playful firmness.  “You boys are mighty sweet to be concerned, but I _like_ Colonel Thorndyke and you boys know it.”  “But Scarlett honey,” said Stuart pleadingly, “ _surely_ Damien can’t be _flawless_.  Why there must be _something_!”  “Damien has flaws just like any other man,” said Scarlett, “but I think he’s just fine and I like him, and I know you don’t, and that’s it.”  “We never said we didn’t like him!” Brent said emphatically.  “All we said was that if he was bothering you, we could…” “Oh _honestly_ , I cannot _believe_ you two!” Scarlett said indignantly.  “I can stay and talk to you, of course, but I’m telling you right now if _either one of_ you two says _anything_ bad about Colonel Thorndyke, I’ll march _right_ up to my room and _slam the door_!”  Brent laughed softly.  “Of course, of course,” he said.  “I understand that you think Damien Thorndyke’s the greatest thing since buttered toast.  I get that the colonel has your attention, and I understand that Damien Thorndyke, if he fancied it, could kill us both.  We get that.  Why, we’re so wise to his ways, that we know for a fact that, why, if Damien fancies it, he can do to you just like Ashley Wilkes.”  That did it!  Scarlett was about to do just as she promised she would when Damien’s voice came from behind her.  “Is there a problem?” he said in a dangerously polite tone.

Damien, smiling triumphantly, stared directly at the Tarletons.  “Well?”  Stuart started to speak.  “Remember, Stuart Tarleton,” said Damien, “that you don’t fight in front of a lady.  Also…”  He narrowed his eyes.  “You don’t upset Scarlett.  That… was a mistake.  You know?”  He stepped closer to them, his five foot, ten inch form looking more like six foot five.  “I think you’d be well suited for the army.  Why we’d shape you up so fast that you’d _both_ turn into Ashley Wilkes.  That is, _if_ you ignoramuses can even count to _ten_ … Misters ‘Expelled from School Three Times.’”  Scarlett stepped back.  Damien’s voice sounded like poisoned honey.  “Shame on you… upsetting Scarlett so, _and_ going about it by insulting me.  _Me_ , of all people.  A trained killer.  Boys, this may not have sunken into your thick heads yet, but… it is _literally_ my _job_ … to _kill_ … _people_.  Would you, perhaps, like me… to say… that… again… _louder_ … _and_ … _slower_?  You boys really _are_ stupid.”  “Damien,” Scarlett said innocently, “Perhaps we could take a walk outside?”  The two left, and Scarlett could be heard to say, “Oh, you poor thing… did those boys upset you?”

When they were outside, Damien was approached by Gerald O’Hara.  “Saw what you did back there,” he said.  Damien started to say quickly, “Sir, if you’d like me to leave, I…” “ _Leave_?!  Oh I’ve never heard such nonsense in all my days!  Why Colonel, those boys _needed_ to be put in their place!”  “Believe me,” said Damien.  “If they try anything with me, I’ll tan their hides so raw they won’t _have_ them anymore!”  Gerald laughed.  “Got you angry, did they?”  Damien smiled.  “How can I be angry with Miss Scarlett around, Mr. O’Hara, hmm?”  Gerald laughed and left the scene.  “I’m going to kill those boys,” Damien whispered.  “I’ll scalp ‘em just like the redskins.”  “Oh, don’t let those boys get to you, sweetheart,” cooed Scarlett.  “I’m sorry for what they do.”  “They don’t like me because they think I’m taking your attention away from them.  Well I say they can sit on a pin.”  Scarlett laughed softly, her eyes sparkling as she did so.  Damien’s heart leapt to his throat.  _“Scarlett”_ he thought, swallowing.  _“If you only had any idea how much joy your laughter and your happiness brought me…”_

“When do you go back out west?”  Damien smiled.  “I’m not due back until the fifteenth of January,” he said, “so guess who’s coming to your New Year’s party… if you’ll have me.”  “Damien, of _course_ we’ll have you!” Scarlett said gently.  “What kind of question is that?”  “The kind you ask _just to be safe_ ,” he said cautiously.  “Can’t show up where I’m not wanted.”  Scarlett just smiled, causing Damien’s stomach to feel like it was full of silk.  “I… I have your present, ah… just outside your room.  I left it there while you were talking to Ashley.”  Scarlett gasped.  She hadn’t noticed!  “Well thank you, Damien!  I’ll open it tomorrow.”  The two continued socializing until the ladies went off to take their naps.  In the parlor, Gerald slammed the table with his fist.  “Thorndyke!” he thundered.  “Why don’t ye tell us a war story!”  The men cheered, and Damien smiled, holding up his hand.  “You know, gents,” he said in a voice all could hear, “I will _never_ forget the day… I killed my first Injun.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was April of 1861, and Scarlett O’Hara was the most excited she’d been in a good while.  Tomorrow, there’d be a barbecue at Twelve Oaks to celebrate Ashley’s betrothal to Melanie Hamilton.  Scarlett felt happy for Ashley, but she still felt a touch of jealousy.  She wished Ashley had proposed to _her_ , not his cousin… but there was nothing to be done.  He was Melanie’s fiancé and that was that.  She had to settle for his friendship.  “Well the war’s going to start any day now, so we would have come right home anyhow,” said Stuart Tarleton.  “War, war, war; is that _all_ you men _ever_ talk about?  I get so bored I could scream!”  “Well how about Damien?” said Brent.  “We have news about him, you know.”  Scarlett’s heart leapt into her throat.  “ _Damien?”_ she thought.  She then let out an audible gasp.  “Did he… did he say… anything about… me?” she asked shyly, her cheeks turning beet-red.  “Well,” said Brent, “he’s been made a general after answering General Lee’s call to arms.  General Lee said, or so I heard, that the promotion was for Damien’s… let’s see… what’d he say, Stu?”  “Exemplary and valorous prior service in the Western territories,” Stuart replied.  “We’ve enlisted ourselves,” Stuart continued.  “we’re joining Damien’s outfit, we are… or at least a regiment he wants to raise up.  From _our troop_ , no less!  Why he wants to turn the troop into part of a proper regiment of dragoons.” “Yes sir!” Brent crowed.  “Gave us proper arms and gear _and_ he persuaded our mother to give us horses.”

“Course we still hate him,” said Stuart.  “What, you think we’re just gonna let him steal you away from us, honey?”  “After all those nice things he’s done for you,” Scarlett chided.  “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves for hating that generous man so.”  “I hear he’s heading back to Atlanta to get engaged to a Miss Amelia Beauregard.”  Scarlett smiled, despite what her heart was doing, which was breaking in half as she sat there.  What?  Oh, how could that be?  At last year’s Christmas party, when her heart was so broken… Damien had held her so tenderly, and spoken to her so gently… _and_ after the year had changed, Damien had squired her about the county so elegantly, taking her to balls, parties, and Court Day in Jonesboro.  Why, he’d even taken her to the theater _all the way in Atlanta_ to see a play she said she liked!  She then relaxed after reviewing these events, and how nicely they’d played out.  No.  The Tarletons were wrong.  They had to be!  She, Scarlett, was the one he loved.  For all she knew, they were trying to rile her and well… maybe there _was_ no Amelia Beauregard!  “You boys are just trying to get me upset, aren’t you?” Scarlett asked.  “We heard it from Atlanta last month,” said Brent, shrugging.  “Fiddle-dee-dee!” Scarlett said, tossing her head haughtily.  “You didn’t hear a _thing_!  Why don’t you discuss what you _really_ heard over supper?”

Scarlett, confident that the Tarletons were lying like rugs, was perfectly comfortable with their staying for supper.  They made themselves comfortable, and Scarlett ran to the end of the driveway to meet her father, who’d doubtless come barreling down the road and jump the fence.  She shuddered at the thought of him breaking his neck and dying.  When he finally did come, supper wasn’t ready yet, and he did indeed jump.  However, much to Scarlett’s relief, he didn’t break his neck… this time.  “Katie Scarlett!” he said happily as he dismounted.  “What are you doing out here by your lonesome?”  “The Tarletons are staying for supper… the twins,” she said.  “I was at Twelve Oaks,” said Gerald, “and who else was there but that patriot of a man, General Thorndyke!”  “Did he say anything about me?”  “Why, he told me to give you his hearty regards, and the assurance he’ll be at the barbecue tomorrow,” said Gerald.  “Did he say anything about an… Amelia Beauregard?” “Nary a word, Puss,” said Gerald, “didn’t even hear the name pass his lips.”  Scarlett sighed with relief.  So maybe they _were_ trying to tease her.  “Well it won’t do you any good to jump to many fences,” said Scarlet, relieved.  “I’ll not have me own daughter tellin’ me when I shall and shall not jump!” said Gerald jovially, resting his hands on Scarlett’s shoulders.  “I hate to do a Damien Thorndyke here and take a risk,” said Scarlett, but I’ll not have _you_ breaking your neck and _dying_.  I won’t tell mother, of course, not a word to her, but the point stands.  You don’t see _Damien_ jumping the fence of _his_ property, do you?” 

“Oh, but Puss,” said Gerald pleadingly, “this is _Tara_.”  “You can ride with the best, even Damien,” said Scarlett, “but Damien told me he only jumps fences he _has_ to… and he _never_ rides while drunk and I _know_ , Pa… that you’ve been drinking.”  Gerald sighed and hung his head.  “Aye, you’re right,” he muttered resignedly.  “You win this round, Katie Scarlett O’Hara.  No more jumping fences and no more drunk riding.”  They walked back the house.  “So where did you hear about this Amelia Beauregard?”  “The Tarletons told me about her,” said Scarlett, “saying Damien was going to Atlanta to be engaged to her.”  Gerald laughed.  “Don’t you think Damien would’ve told you by now?”  Scarlett nodded.  “But what if this was sudden news, what with the war?”  “One way or another, as a gentleman, I’m sure he’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Scarlett sighed as she ate her dinner, filling in as the table’s superintendent while her mother was taking care of Emmy and her baby.  She wished Ellen were here so she could have a third opinion.  Scarlett held back her tears and ate slowly, and little.  What was wrong with this cold world?  Couldn’t they see that her heart was breaking?  Scarlett went through the motions at the family’s prayers when her mother returned, and went to bed with a sigh.  She stared at the canopy and sighed.  She couldn’t let her fear of Damien being engaged to someone else ruin her day.  That was when the wheels turned in her head, and she formulated a plan.  Tomorrow, she’d be at her happiest, not letting her disappointment show.  And if men wanted consistency in a woman, why… she’d show _him_ how faithful she could be.  Why, she wouldn’t eat barbecue with anyone but him!  Oh she’d be sweet and gracious to everyone, of course, even the men.  She couldn’t be rude, after all… but Damien was her target… and she was going to zero right in!  She went to sleep, dreaming of how her plan would unfold, and Damien would tell her he wasn’t getting engaged, but would rather marry _her_!  She wrapped her arms around herself and let out a content hum as she smiled.  “Oh Damien…” she said to herself.  “Damien…”  She closed her eyes and slept the sleep of the just that night.


	6. Chapter 6

It was the morning of the barbecue, and Damien Thorndyke was one of the first to arrive.  He was speaking with Rhett Butler, a blockade runner with a bad reputation and the appearance of a pirate.  “So you’re selling to the north to persuade their factories to move south,” said Rhett slowly.  “I like the way you think.  “Captain Butler, let’s get us up a think tank,” said Damien.  “I’ll handle industrialization, and you can get us a fleet.”  “Sounds like a crazy enough idea to work,” said Rhett.  “I’ve got some connections in the navy who might be convinced to join the Confederacy.  We should get others involved.” “Agreed,” said Damien.  “We’ll talk more about this business when the ladies take their naps and leave us men to socialize.”  “You may have a fast reputation, but you’ve a good head on your shoulders.  We need that head of yours.”  Rhett nodded and left, and Damien heard a familiar voice calling his name.  He turned and smiled.  “Scarlett,” he said softly.  He took her small hands, kissing one of them and causing her to blush faintly.  “Damien Thorndyke, you handsome old thing, you,” she said coquettishly.  “Handsome?” Damien said, cocking his head.  “Why, Miss Scarlett, you seem to have me confused for a mirror.”  Scarlett let out a shy hum as she batted her eyelashes.  “Damien, I should like to eat barbecue with you,” she said.  “Meanwhile, I’m going to do what’s polite and greet everyone else.  And mind that you don’t go philandering with other girls, because I’m mighty jealous!”

            Scarlett had scarcely left Damien’s side when Suellen walked over.  “Hello, General,” she said fetchingly.  “Hello there, Miss Suellen,” said Damien.  “And how’s the morning find you?”  Suellen smiled and batted her eyelashes.  “Oh… just fine,” she said.  “Pity I have no one to eat with.”  “I hear,” said Damien, “that Frank Kennedy’s going to be here, possibly very shortly.  How about you eat with _him_?”  “Oh…” said Suellen dejectedly.  “And why not you?” “Why, because I already told Miss Scarlett I’d eat with her.”  Suellen hung her head.  “Oh…” she said.  “Go see Frank,” said Damien, shrugging.  “He’ll take care of you, I’m sure.”  Suellen left, and Scarlett returned.  When it was time to eat, Damien and Scarlett sat together, and away from the main group.  They talked of recent happenings, and the goings on of their plantations, and when the conversation turned to flirtations, Damien said sweet things that sent a blushing Scarlett into fits of giggles.

            Soon after, it was naptime for the ladies, and Damien socialized with the other men, getting right down to business when he said, “So… you think we can win this war?  Fine.  We’ve not a cannon factory south of the Mason-Dixon line, but Captain Butler and I think that we may have a path to victory.  I’ve contacts in the north who’d just _love_ it here after I get them off the fence in regards to the war.”  Rhett stepped forward.  “I’ve got connections with the navy, as a blockade runner,” he said.  Even now, we’ve got ships striking their colors and waiting for some nice new Confederate naval jacks.  Whoever else can contribute, please do so.  Anyone who can’t or won’t help… leave the room.”  Every man kept his place.  The Tarletons spoke.  “We don’t like General Thorndyke, and everyone knows it.  But we can settle our differences when faced with a common enemy.  Our horses are the pride of Georgia.  We’ll supply the cavalry, and we’re joining a regiment of dragoons that the general’s raising.”  “War may be the cause of the world’s problems,” said Ashley, who’d just stood up, “but we Wilkes aren’t cowards, and fight I shall.  You know Twelve Oaks has various crops that can feed the army and make uniforms, like our very own Damien Cornelius Thorndyke.”  Damien bowed.  “The Hamiltons, my cousins in Atlanta, will be sent a correspondence urging them to help in any way they can.  If you, General Thorndyke, would be kind enough to do the same with your relations in Atlanta, that would be excellent.”

            Damien smiled and nodded.  “Today,” he said, “I call for a coalition.  From here on out, we shall be known as the Confederate Victory Initiative.”  “Hear, hear!” the men shouted.  “Charles Hamilton,” said Damien.  “Have you had your Grand Tour yet?”  “I’m scheduled to go soon,” he said, “but I may have to fight.”  “Good, you have a physical condition and you can’t soldier.  Go to Europe and try to get help from them.”  Charles nodded.  “For the Confederacy,” he said.  “I have relations in England who’d just love to have you, I’m sure.  Go to this address when you arrive.”  Damien wrote an address on a piece of paper, handing it to Charles.  “Tell them Damien sent you.”  Charles nodded and smiled.  “I’ll be leaving in two weeks,” he said.

            Suellen, meanwhile, had just woken up from her nap, and hadn’t been able to think of anyone but Damien.  _“Ooh, that Scarlett!”_ she thought.  _“Why she can’t possibly have him wrapped that tightly around her finger, can she?  Besides which, Frank’s old!”_   She found Damien in the library of the house, drinking a mint julep.  “Hello…?” she said shyly.  Damien turned.  “Oh,” he said, “it’s you.  I take it the others are awake?”  “Not yet,” said Suellen.  “I… I… um…”  Damien smiled.  “You can do it,” he said invitingly.  “Just open your mouth, and I’m sure words will come out.”  Suellen giggled.  “I… um…”  She stepped closer.  “I know this is usually something the man asks, but… you can’t possibly be having _all_ the dances with Scarlett.  “A _lady_ asking a _gentleman_ for a dance,” said Damien.  “Sure, I could do that.  Most of the dances are waltzes… let’s see… how about a quadrille?”  Suellen nodded eagerly.  “Alright,” she said.  “I’d love to have a waltz with you, but… well…”  He sighed as she looked at him with a smile.  “I can’t break Scarlett’s heart like that.”  Suellen sighed as she gently took his hand.  “But Damien…” she cooed. 

Behind Suellen, a gasp was heard, causing Damien to suddenly let go of her hand and throw up his own.  “Scarlett,” he said.  “Listen to me.  This isn’t what it looks like.”  Scarlett walked over to Damien and stared directly at him.  “What are you doing!” she cried.  “I am dancing _one quadrille_ with Suellen tonight.  Just _one quadrille_ …,” said Damien, “and I’m not doing anything el...”  “You’re _what_?!”  “I have,” said Damien, “no romantic interest in your sis…” “Shut up!” Scarlett barked.  “I cannot _believe_ this!  You… you…”  She growled loudly.  “You… you… lying poisonous… _snake_!”  She slapped him across the face… hard.  Damien stood there motionless and stone-faced, his happy demeanor replaced by pure military stoicism.  “Oh I’ll be _glad_ to see you go!  I hope the Yankees chop you up into a million pieces!  I hope you’re mutilated so they can’t identify your body!  I… I’ll hate you till I die!”  Damien raised his hands and nodded.  “Someday,” he said simply, “you’ll find out that I was telling the truth.  And when that day comes, it might be too late… I might be dead.  Think about that, Scarlett.”  Scarlett said nothing.  “You’ll forgive me, but you might be forgiving a cold, dead corpse at its funeral.  And when I go to fight for the Cause, I will fight with more determination than ever when the odds aren’t in our favor.  I’ll charge boldly and strike hard, and anger and frighten them so much that they’ll associate me with death itself.  I’ll fight until my flesh is hacked from my bones, Scarlett. …”  He left the room and said, “Because now that I know that you hate me, even if it’s for a while… I _want_ to die.”

**Is this the end of what could have been a beautiful relationship?**  
Will Scarlett forgive Damien?   
**Keep reading and find out!**


	7. Chapter 7

Scarlett stood there motionless as she watched Damien leave.  Tears started to form in her eyes.  “He played the pity card,” said Suellen airily.  “Typical.  You know, you really shouldn’t set your heart on men who’ll…” Scarlett sighed.  She was so _livid_ at Damien, and yet… and yet… what if he _was_ telling the truth?  Was he lying?  She didn’t know!  She knew Damien and Gerald had talked in hushed tones, and she also knew that if Gerald were angry at Damien, he would’ve yelled loudly enough to wake the dead, but that didn’t happen.  Damien had just spoken with Gerald, done some other things, probably spoken with the Wilkes to let them know something had come up, and then he’d just… left.  This might be the last time she was seeing him, but still… she was angry, heartbroken, sorry that she’d been so cruel without knowing what was what, and yet…  She went through the motions of having a good time at the party, all the while hearing everyone talk about how sad and lifeless Damien had looked as he’d gone home.  “Who died?” some people wondered.  “He must have been hit with some pretty bad news to just get up and _leave_ like that,” she’d heard Charles Hamilton remark.  When she got home, she simply crawled into bed and went to sleep… there was nothing else to do.

            The next day, Damien was in Atlanta.  He’d been ordered to Virginia to reinforce General Lee’s army.  Damien was crushed.  Suellen had much to answer for after Scarlett had assumed the worst.  What, was a single quadrille not good enough for her?  He hadn’t even known Suellen had any romantic interest in him at all?  What the Hell was wrong with Frank Kennedy that she’d not simply love _him_ and leave Damien alone?  He walked into the empty parlor and sat on the plump sofa.  “God damn it, Suellen…” he said to himself.  “Sit over there and ruin everything, why don’t you?  Go choke.”  “Oh,” said Damien’s mother Elaine.  “I didn’t see you come in, Damien.  You look tired.”  “Believe me,” said Damien.  “I am _definitely_ tired.”  “Long riding and hard work keeping the regiment in line?”  Damien sighed.  “I ah… guess you could say that…”  He hung his head.  “Someone’s coming over for dinner.  You remember Amy Beauregard?”  Damien flinched.  “I ah… yes.”  “I assume you should be glad to see her again.”  “Oh… um… sure.”  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t heap this on you.  You’re tired.  She won’t be around for two hours at least.  You might want a nap.”  “I ah… I guess.”  He headed upstairs to his room and sat at his desk, looking at a box containing something he’d meant to give Scarlett earlier, but hadn’t gotten up the nerve to send.

            Eventually, Amy arrived, and Damien was there to greet her.  The door opened, and Damien felt a shooting pain in his chest.  There she stood… strawberry-blonde hair and eyes the color of… good God… those were _Scarlett’s_ eyes!  “Damien?” she said.  “I know you’re surprised to see me, but… don’t be.”  He kissed her hand and led her inside.  “How was your trip?” he asked numbly, “and where’s William?”  Amelia smiled.  “Oh… it was pleasant.  It took too long, though.  See… I wanted to see you again as soon as I could.”  “Oh… well that’s nice of you to say that.”  “Damien Thorndyke,” she said, crossing her arms and smiling.  “What happened to you?  You’re supposed to be a confident risk-taking cavalier!  What even _is_ this?”  “Oh, you’ll have to forgive my son,” said Elaine.  “He’s tired from the trip out of Jonesboro.”  “Oh,” said Amy.  “Well that explains that clean away.  So… tell me all about Jonesboro.”  They sat down, and Damien managed a weak smile.  “Well,” he said, “it’s a respectable town with respectable people, and _great_ soil for cotton.”  The two talked for a while, and then dinner was served.

“So,” said Reginald, Damien’s father who’d come over from England shortly after Queen Victoria came to the throne, “now that Amy’s here, we’re all wondering… what _did_ happen to William?”  “Oh,” said Amy.  He philandered on me.”  Damien cocked his head.  “And he’s a better offer than me?” he asked.  “How cute.”  “Damien,” said Amy.  “I… I didn’t think...” “Exactly,” said Damien, “You didn’t think.  Why?  Because, well… I guess you’re thoughtless.”  “Damien Cornelius!” Elaine cried.  “What a thing to say!”

            Damien shrugged.  “What else is there to say?  She left me, a man she knows _and loved_ , and who she _knew for a fact_ loved her back, and was _faithful_ , for a banker who looked good in slicked-back hair in a business suit while leaning against a fencepost flipping a nickel.”  Amy reacted like she’d been shot.  “B… but… don’t you want me back?”  “What for?!” thundered Damien, letting all his pent-up grief and rage bubble over.  “So you can run off with some Zouave from New Orleans?!”  Elaine gasped.  “ _Damien_!”  “You cut me, Amelia!” Damien shouted, ignoring his mother and standing up suddenly.  “You cut me, and it hurts!  The… the wound is still open, Amy, and just by being here, you’ve poured _salt_ on it!”  Amy gasped as tears poured from her eyes.  This wasn’t how she’d planned it at all!  “Damien…” she said thickly.  “What’s wrong?  Don’t… don’t you love me anymore?”  Damien sighed, calming himself.  “There is,” said Damien, “no room in my life… for a girl who, at the first sign of what she thinks is a better offer, runs off on the man she knows loves her.  I forgive you, of course, because I was raised to forgive just like Jesus does.  But… I’m afraid it’s simply over between us.”  “Damien…” Amy said, her voice thickening further.  “But… but Damien… please… I _love_ you!”  Damien took his plate and his mug of beer and turned to go back to his room.  “I’m sorry, Amy,” he said.  “I can’t do this anymore.”  He walked out of the room. “You broke my heart.”


	8. Chapter 8

A week later, Damien was in Virginia, sitting on Indomitable and taking a swill from his canteen, watching Federal and Confederate troops fight near Manassas Creek.  He was waiting with two thousand dragoons, comprising of the regiment from which he hailed, and the one he’d raised, waiting for his turn to charge.  Twenty hundred-man diamonds dotted the field, and a soldier said to Damien, “Our boys look like they’re getting’ whooped ahead of us.  Shall we ride out and crush the Yankees?”  “I want,” said Damien, “five hundred men to ride, _discreetly_ , to the Union’s rear. Five hundred more will attack their flank.  I’ll rush in when they’ve turned and flank ‘em again.  Once we have local superiority, we’ll rally the men and hit those Yankees one more time!”  The men rode out, and Damien and a thousand men stayed behind.  Once the Federal troops turned to deal with the other cavalrymen, Damien drew his sword and shouted.  “For the Confederacy and Georgia… _charge_!!”  Shouts rang out from the throats of the men as they surged forward, and when they collided with the blue-coated troops, they hacked, slashed, and shot.  Damien used his revolver sparingly, and when a Yankee officer tried to swing at his leg, Damien had the good fortune to parry.  He used this opportunity to kill the officer and moved on.

            As he fought, images of Scarlett ran through his mind.  She wouldn’t want him to give up, he thought.  So he fought harder, despite receiving gunshot and sword wounds in his thigh and shoulder.  When the fighting was over, they walked to the next block of Union troops.  When they got close enough five minutes later, they charged, hitting them again.  This was done repeatedly throughout the field.  When all was said and done, the Confederacy had won the battle.  An officer rode up to Damien after the fighting, and the two men saluted each other with their sabers.  “Orders from General Beauregard,” said the officer.  “Pursue and raid their camp.”  Damien nodded and led his men in the direction of the fleeing Federal soldiers.  “Where do you think _you’re_ going?!” Damien thundered, cutting down some stragglers.  When they arrived at the camp, Damien ordered his men, “Kill _only the soldiers_!  Spare the camp followers and civilians!”  As the camp was ransacked and looted, Damien liberated mostly arms and uniforms… uniforms that would later be put to use.  When they left, the camp followers, stunned, watched them leave.

            When Damien returned to camp, he went directly to the medical tent.  “Couple of minor wounds in my thigh and shoulder,” said Damien.  “So I see.  They’ll need stitches, and we have a bullet to extract.  You’ll still have all your parts, so rest easy.  Oh, and ah… drink some whiskey.  This may hurt.”  Damien took a thirsty gulp from a glass of whiskey and gritted his teeth, growling like an angry wolf while the bullet was extracted.  “Son of a _bitch_!” he barked.  His wounds were filled with whiskey, causing more growling as they were cleaned out and rinsed.  He was sent back to his command tent, and there he sat, his wounds causing him sharp, shooting pain.  He silently hoped he wouldn’t be faced with gangrene as he relaxed in his cot.

            About a week later, in Tara, Scarlett was in a hole she didn’t know how to escape.  She’d cried herself to sleep for the past week.  What had she done!  She buried her face in the pillow as she lay in bed, groaning softly.  Her pillow was soaking wet, and she didn’t want to even leave her room.  A knock on her door and a shy voice calling her name announced the arrival of Suellen.  “Go away!” Scarlett cried.  “I hate you!”  Suellen opened the door anyway, setting a package wrapped in brown paper on Scarlett’s vanity and walked over to her sister.  “I said get out of here!” Scarlett yelled into her pillow.  Suellen sat on the edge of Scarlett’s bed and sighed.  “You’ve been sweet on Damien ever since he arrived, haven’t you!  Now I don’t know what to think, so tell me honestly.  Is he courting you?”  Suellen sighed.  “No…” she said, “but I’d like him to.”  Scarlett huffed.  “Oh that’s just like you!” she said thickly.  “You resent the fact I have more beaux than you, so you try and steal mine, don’t you?!  You _like_ seeing me downtrodden, you witch!”  Suellen just stroked her sister’s hair gently.  “Scarlett, I… I just want to be like you,” she said.  “You’re just so charming, and pretty, and…”  She sighed.  “And I’m afraid stealing someone’s the only way I can _get_ someone.” “You still have Frank, just keep Frank,” said Scarlett thickly.  “Please don’t manipulate Damien into falling for you.  _Please_!”

Scarlett grudgingly got up, heading to her vanity, her dainty bare feet moving across the floor.  When she opened the box, she saw a folded piece of paper.  She set it aside and opened the wooden box.  When she saw its contents, her jaw dropped.  That was real turquoise Indian jewelry!  A necklace, earrings, and even a bracelet were in there… all matching!  Suellen smiled.  “He loves you, Scarlett,” she said softly.  Scarlett headed downstairs numbly, the letter in her hand.  She opened it while another letter was being placed on the table in front of her.  She gasped softly when she saw the words.  There were small tearstains on the paper, and some of the ink was slightly smudged.  She realized… Damien had been _crying_ when he wrote this!  She then began reading Damien’s letter to herself.

Scarlett-  
I know that I’m writing this letter at my own risk, and that it, along with the package and its contents, may soon perish in flames, but this Indian jewelry was so long in coming because I could never quite get up the courage to send it to you.  I may have guts enough to spare when it comes to a fight (and Lord knows I do!) but you leave me weak in the knees.  You’re just the most intelligent, sweetest, and most beautiful lady I’ve ever met, and nothing’s going to change that… not even Suellen and our unfortunate misunderstanding.  I’m not giving up on you, Scarlett… because I simply can’t.  I’m amazed at how I can still exist after such heartbreak.  I guess it’s because I still have a glimmer of hope that someday you’ll understand why I haven’t given up.  The fact of the matter is… I love you, Scarlett.  I love you, and I always have, ever since we met.  I can’t stop loving you, and I can’t just watch you leave, and have the light go out of my life forever.  Without you, I’d just be a broken shell of a man, as I am now.  This wasn’t your fault, Scarlett.  You didn’t hurt me.  It’s not even Suellen’s.  It’s my own fault for not telling you sooner… for letting Suellen even _think_ of me.  And since it’s my fault, how can I live with myself knowing that I broke your heart?  How can I forgive myself?  I don’t know if I can, Scarlett, but for you, I’ll try.  I hope this war doesn’t take me from you, and that we can be together, and have a future when the war’s over and the North is beaten.  I’ll never leave you. Not for Suellen, not for anyone.  
I love you.  
General Damien C. Thorndyke

            Scarlett closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks.  He loved her… and blamed _himself_ for what had happened at the barbecue?  Scarlett picked up the next letter, and was surprised to see that it looked official.  She opened it and gasped audibly, stepping back.  “Oh my God!” cried Carreen, who was watching the scene unfold. “Damien’s dead!”  Scarlett shook her head… he wasn’t dead.  But when she saw the words “severely wounded” and “Unsure if he’ll survive,” she dropped the letter and stepped back again.  “No,” she said.  The room began to spin.  “Not Damien!” she cried.  “Anyone but Damien!”  The next thing she knew, she was lying in her bed, and very groggy.  “What happened…?” she groaned.  Suellen was standing over her.  “You fainted,” she said softly.  What?  That couldn’t be right; Scarlett had _never_ fainted, not even as an act!  “Damien’s in the hospital in Atlanta on Peachtree Street,” said Ellen.  “I have to go to Atlanta!” Scarlett cried.  “I have to!  Damien’s over there, I have to see him!  I have to…” Ellen cupped Scarlett’s face in her hand and stroked her cheek.  “Shhh…” she whispered.  “We’ll get you there.  You’ll go see him, but first you need to rest.”  “B… But he could… oh my God!” she cried thickly, tears coming to her eyes.  She rolled over and buried her head into her pillow.  “What if he dies, what if he dies, what if he dies!” she sobbed.  “What will I do without him!”  Scarlett’s family sat around her and comforted her for a long while, and Scarlett just trembled like a leaf, unable to stop crying.  She wished she could take all those horrible things she’d wished on him back.  She’d wished him so much injury during that barbecue.  What if… Scarlett continued crying even after everyone went to sleep for the night.  “I will never forgive myself!” she sobbed as she cried herself to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Damien Thorndyke was lucky.  He still had all of his bodily members after that horrible Union victory three days ago, and he was in a hospital specifically for officers.  Everyone got his own ward, and the conditions were superb.  He’d gone under the knife twice while he was in a coma, he’d learned.  But he was too groggy to remember much else.  His lower legs were covered in stitched wounds, and his face had a scar that ran from his the right portion of his forehead down to just under his left ear.  He’d been peppered with bullets in his shoulders and arms, and his chest had a large stitched gash running across it.  “So,” said a nurse when she entered the room.  “Are we feeling a little better?”  Damien just nodded.  “Where’s Scarlett?” he asked groggily.  “Scarlett…?” the nurse asked.  “I’m sure she’ll be around.”  “Scarlett… where is she…?”  Damien let out a low groan.  “She’ll be here soon, sweetheart,” the nurse cooed, stroking his hair.  She’ll be here soon…”  “Where is he,” came a demanding voice from the hallway.  “Where’s…” the woman who’d spoken gasped.  “Damien?” she cried, running over to him.  “Oh my God… _Damien_!”  The nurse stepped back.  “Damien, I’m here!” she cried.  “Don’t give up, Damien, I love you, please don’t give up!”  Damien winced as she grabbed his hand.  “Where is she?” he said.  “Maybe you know.  Where’s Scarlett?”  “Damien… Damien it’s me!” Scarlett said, her breaths shaky.  “Where’s Scarlett… tell me…” “Damien!” she cried, grabbing his face in her hands.  “I’m Scarlett!”  She shook him firmly and said louder, in a sobbing voice, “ _I’m_ Scarlett!”

            Damien groaned again.  “God…” he said groggily.  “Scarlett… is that really you?”  Scarlett nodded and smiled through her tears.  “That’s right, Damien!” she said thickly.  “It’s me!”  Damien smiled, the scar on his face stinging him as he did so.  He then gazed about the room and looked down at his body.  He was missing his shirt.  His figure wasn’t muscular, but rather, it was well toned.  He then gazed about the room in a predatory fashion, sat himself up and felt a shooting pain in his torso.  He lay back down and growled, finally yelling at the top of his voice: “ _What am I doing in here when there’s still Yankees to kill?!  Get me my weapons and uniform, God damn it_!!”  “That’s Thorndyke,” a voice outside said flatly.  “Thank you,” said another voice.  “General Lee, _sir_!” Damien said, surprised as they exchanged salutes.  “Ah, forgive my horrible language, General!”  “There’s nothing to forgive,” said Lee good-naturedly.  “I indulge at times, myself.  Fortunately these ladies don’t seem to mind… much.”  “He’s a hardened veteran,” said Scarlett automatically.  “So from him, I think I can take a simple… you know…”  General lee laughed softly.  “Of course, Miss.  At any rate, General Thorndyke, you were mentioned in dispatches for bravery and exemplary conduct in the field.  Do you have any idea how many medals you’ll have earned out there?  When we get us up a Confederate Medal of Honor of some kind, that’s going to be what you’ll get I say!  Of course, it’ll be postbellum, but… meanwhile, this is for you.”  He set a small box on the bedside table, which Damien opened, revealing two ivory-handled silver plated revolvers, both of which had his name on them.

            “Thank you, General,” said Damien, smiling.  “You deserve it, Hellcat.”  Damien laughed.  “You’re going home for three months to rest from your wounds… once you’re ambulatory.  I’m pleased to inform you that Great Britain and France have recognized our sovereignty, and will aid us with ships, men, and goods.”  Damien smiled broadly.  _“Charles Hamilton,”_ he thought happily, _“You old fox, you!”_   “Any word on Rhett Butler?”  “You mean Vice Admiral Butler?  Why he and his fleet are blockading Boston and New York harbors!”  Damien smiled.  “We’ll win this,” he said, “I know we will, General Lee!”  General Lee smiled and left.  “Enjoy your furlough.”

            Damien was well enough to go home, but not to fight, three days later, and two days after that, he was in Tara, telling war stories to Gerald.  “You glorious bastard!” Gerald crowed.  “How long were you in that hospital?”  “Two weeks,” said Damien.  “It was Scarlett who snapped me back into my right mind, and I’m on a three month furlough.”  Scarlett walked into the room and smiled as Damien stood up.  “Hello, sweetheart,” he said tenderly, holding her close.  She buried her head into his chest and sighed happily, and closing her eyes as he stroked her hair.  After Gerald left, they parted. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.  “What for?” Damien asked.  “You’ve got nothing to…”  Scarlett shook her head.  “I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she said sadly.  “I admit… I was heartbroken… but I knew you’d find out the truth sooner or later.”  “Oh, damien, you were _crying_ when you wrote that letter to me!” Scarlett said, her voice thickening. 

“Before I went off to war, I… met someone,” he confessed.  “Amelia Beauregard, my… well… she was my sweetheart for… a while.”  Scarlett gasped.  “Don’t tell me you’re getting engaged to her. _Please_ don’t tell me!”  Damien sighed.  “That’s… not going to happen, Scarlett,” he said.  “Before I moved here, she… left me for some banker.  She came for dinner and tried to get me back, but…”  Scarlet gasped.  “But you didn’t take her back!” Scarlett realized.  “Because she broke your heart… like I did.  Why me, Damien?  Why would you ever have any room in your heart for someone like me?”  Her eyes glistened with tears.  “Someone who just… jumps to conclusions and doesn’t think for a second how I affect others around me and… oh, I _want_ to be like my mother, but I don’t know if I can.  How could you ever love me?  I don’t deserve you, Damien.”  She hung her head.  “I don’t deserve _anyone_!”

Damien took Scarlett in his arms, rocking her gently.  “No, Scarlett,” he said softly, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears.  “No honey.”  He smiled.  “I love you, and you’ll _always_ have me.”  Scarlett sighed.  “How could you be so sweet and understanding to someone like me?” said Scarlett.  “Oh God, I’m such an idiot.  Don’t… don’t leave me Damien.  Please don’t!”  “I won’t leave you Scarlett,” Damien whispered softly, kissing her forehead.  “I’m not gonna leave you.”  “I am so sorry,” Scarlett sobbed.  “I am so sorry for everything!  I put you through so much!” “Don’t think about that now,” Damien said gently, stroking Scarlett’s hair.  “Don’t think about that. I’m here now.  Everything…”  “”What have I done?”  Damien cupped Scarlett’s face in his hand. “Nothing,” he said gently.  She closed her eyes, hanging her head.  “Scarlett,” Damien said tenderly, lifting her gaze to meet his and smiling.  “You’re mine… and you’re special.  Don’t you _ever_ forget that.”

Their lips met in their first kiss… it was deep and loving.  And as their tongues danced in each other’s mouths, Damien placed one hand behind her head and ran the other up and down her back.  Scarlett wrapped her arms around Damien’s neck, moaning into the kiss as their lips pressed together, deepening it.  When he redirected his kisses to her cheek and jawline, she tilted her head back and started breathing heavily through slightly parted lips, gripping the back of his jacket.  He kissed her ear gently, softly whispering her name into it as moved to her soft, delicate neck.  “I love you…” she could hear him whisper, his warm breath caressing her skin. “I love you…”  Even when excited, Damien was a gentleman. His kisses only went as far as her shoulders, and then came right back up.  Scarlett let soft moans escape her as he planted his little kisses.  Scarlett had always wanted Damien to kiss her, but this was unexpected.  This was amazing!  This was _electric_!

            “You’ve… done this before… with Amy…” she said breathlessly.  Damien just smiled.  “Not nearly with this much passion,” he replied.  Scarlett threw her arms around him, burying her head in his chest.  He ran his fingers up and down her spine, rocking her gently.  “Should I tell everyone we’re courting?” Scarlett asked playfully, blushing and smiling.  “If you want to keep the blasted Tarletons away, I suppose you should,” Damien replied.  Scarlett giggled, holding him tighter.  He winced, grimacing and letting out a pained growl.  “Oh!” Scarlett said, loosening her grip.  “I forgot… the wounds.”  She sighed.  “It’s alright,” she cooed.  “I’ll take care of you…”  Damien kissed Scarlett’s forehead gently, and a few minutes later, he felt her entire body go limp.  Scarlett had fallen asleep in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

It was November of 1861, and Damien Thorndyke was back in the saddle.  **GENERAL THORNDYKE RIDES AGAIN** the newspapers throughout the South crowed.  **TREMBLE, YANKEES!  HELLCAT’S ON THE PROWL!** Damien put down the newspaper he was reading and sighed.  He was now in the industrial city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  The south had captured the western half of the state after moving up and consolidating power in the western part of Virginia after these people had decided to side with the Union.  “We’ve received word that the Union is regrouping near Gettysburg,” said a captain.  “Shall we ride out and crush them?”  “We’ve held Western Pennsylvania for only a month,” said Damien.  “Get as many men as you can to join us.  We’ll then go to Gettysburg and halt their advance.  First, though, we’ll be staying here for a while.”  A knock sounded at the door, and Damien smiled.  “Dismissed,” he said.  “Go get us some soldiers.”  The men saluted, and the captain left.  Damien’s mouth fell open at the sight of the next person to enter the room.  “My God,” he gasped.  “It can’t be… _Scarlett_?” 

Scarlett closed the door and ran to Damien, falling to her knees and clasping his hands.  “Oh Damien!” she cried.  “Damien, my darling, I had to see you!”  Damien smiled.  “You came through some dangerous land just to see me,” he remarked.  “Surely there’s another reason for you coming?”  Scarlett smiled.  “I spoke,” she said, “with some people from the army, and they said… they said… ‘Madam, General Thorndyke needs an assistant… he needs someone on his staff with a good head for numbers to manage everything.  He needs a logistical officer.’  And so here I am, Damien, to offer you my services and stay close to you to make sure you don’t die on me!”

            Damien looked at Scarlett and smiled.  “Keeping an eye on me for the cause?” he said.  “Why, Scarlett, I’m touched.  Of course I’ll take you on.”  “You will?” she cried happily.  “Oh thank you, _thank_ you!”  Damien smiled all the more broadly at Scarlett’s bright face.  Now that he had a stenographer and logistical officer, he could get a great deal more work done, and now that Scarlett was with him, perhaps he wouldn’t be so homesick.  “My mother sent this for you,” she said excitedly.  “Open it, open it!”  Damien opened the letter and smiled when he started to read it.  “My, my,” he said.  “Seems your mother’s really worried something might happen to you. Just look at this!”

General Thorndyke-  
Please take good care of our Scarlett.  She came through a dangerous part of the country to offer her services.  ‘I want to be with Damien,’ she’d said, ‘and I’d be a fool not to help the cause for which he fights.’  Naturally, I had reservations, but at the same time, I know that you love Scarlett dearly, and would never intentionally put her in harm’s way.  However, there is a stipulation involved.  You and she will be alone together for a while, surrounded by soldiers and strange city people.  Therefore, I should like you two to be married as soon as is possible.  It doesn’t have to be instantly… but I’d rather it be soon.  I and the rest of the family will be in Pittsburgh for Christmas, specifically, we shall arrive on the twentieth of November.  After the New Year would be a suitable time for the wedding, but I should hope you two wed before Saint Patrick’s Day. 

Carreen and Suellen shall make themselves useful by working in convalescent wards, and I shall nurse in a military hospital.  Gerald is staying home to manage Tara.  I shall see you soon.  
Ellen O’Hara

            Damien folded the letter and put it in his pocket.  “They’ll be here in three days,” said Scarlett.  “I should… I should go and make myself useful!”  She sat at a small desk and began poring over reports.  Damien, meanwhile, looked out the window at all the Confederate man patrolling the streets.  He smiled when he saw men enlisting at a recruitment station attended by gray-uniformed recruiting officers.  “Well?” said Scarlett, “what did it say?”  “Your mother sends her greetings and wants me to take good care of you,” said Damien, turning around.  “Typical of her to say that, isn’t it?” said Scarlett.  “They’ll be here on the twentieth,” said Damien.  “That’s in three days!” said Scarlett excitedly.  “Oh won’t it be wonderful to see my parents and sisters again?”  “I daresay it will,” said Damien.  “Your mother and sisters are coming, and I’ll see them again indeed.  I just hope it’s not the last time.”  Scarlett gasped.  “Oh Damien!” she cried, clinging to him possessively.  “Oh, don’t talk that way, you _mustn’t_ talk that way!”  Damien smiled and rocked her gently.  “Don’t talk like that!” she said frantically, grabbing his jacket and looking into his eyes.  “I can’t imagine life without you; we’ve been together for so long!”  Her eyes filled with tears.  “I don’t want to think about it!”  Damien shrugged.  “Well… you never know,” he said hesitantly.  “Damien,” said Scarlett firmly.  “Don’t you _dare_ die out there.  You are _my_ sweetheart,” she shook him firmly.  “ _Mine_!”  She adopted a serious look and threw her arms around Damien’s neck.  “Don’t throw your life away, Damien!” 

Scarlett sighed dreamily as Damien held her.  “Damien Thorndyke?” a voice said behind Scarlett in an unmistakable English accent.  Damien lifted his head.  “Victor Windermere Thorndyke!  How are you, you old redcoat?”  “You two _know_ each other?” Scarlett asked, surprised.  “He’s my cousin,” said Damien, “and he’s a lieutenant in Her Majesty’s army.  Well, they pronounce it _leff_ -tennant over there, to which I ask, what the hell, but still.”  Victor laughed.  “Ours is the _true_ English,” he proclaimed, “the _only_ English.” “Ah, shut up you damn fool,” said Damien playfully.  “Scarlett’s sisters are coming over,” said Damien.  “Scarlett?  Oh, is that the lovely young creature on your arm?  Good _Lord_ , man, she’s _lovely_!”  “I have a sister, you know… well two, but one’s taken.”  “And what’s her name, my dear?” “Caroline Irene O’Hara, but everyone calls her Carreen.”  Victor smiled.  “Really,” he said.  “She works at a convalescent house… or at least she will in a week.  She’ll be here in three days.  They’re staying _here_.”  Scarlett scribbled down an address, handing it to Victor, who walked out of the room.  Damien left as well, as he had to attend to some business.  When he reached the foyer of the town hall, which was serving as a command center, he heard an all too familiar voice.  “Damien?” she said shyly.  He turned and looked, mouth agape, at the persistent little strawberry-blonde whom he’d once called his sweetheart.

“Amelia Beauregard,” said Damien slowly.  “Hello, Damien,” said Amy happily.  “You… you followed me here,” Damien said stupidly.  Amy giggled.  “Oh, I thought I’d help the cause here and be a seamstress,” she said.  “Well, you see, I… ah…”  Amy stepped closer to Damien and looked into his eyes.  “What’s the matter, honey,” she cooed.  “Don’t you love me anymore?”  Damien was stunned.  Oh, of _course_ he still cared… but his heart belonged to someone else.  “Amy, you… you’re in Pittsburgh…” “I know!” Amelia said, smiling.  “Isn’t it wonderful?”  She chuckled.  “Oh come now,” she cooed.  “Just say that you love me, you silly…” “General Thorndyke,” said a man walking over to them.  “Charles Hamilton!” Damien said, whirling around.  “What are you doing here?”  Charles beamed.  “The Cause needs my services working for the paymasters for the army, and we’ve set up a new place to be closer to the men.”  “What happened to Charles the Diplomat?” “Oh, that was just during my Grand Tour,” Charles said casually.

Amelia, while this was happening, was hatching a plan.  She’d show that Damien he was still hers!  Why, she’d flirt this Charles Hamilton to death, and break his heart!  She walked over to him and smiled.  “Hello there,” she said softly.  Charles turned.  “Oh, ah…” he started.  “Miss Beauregard, I… …it’s good to meet you.”  He kissed her hand, and she giggled.  “Oh, but aren’t you just the most darling thing,” she cooed.  “Well I… I can say that I’m… a reasonable man, yes.”  “Let’s go somewhere else… Charles Hamilton, was it?”  Charles was dumbfounded as they left.  “Thank God,” Damien breathed.  He took care of his business, which was mundane, ordering men about, and then headed back to his office.  When he got there, Scarlett was at her desk, putting the finishing touches on the last bit of her work.  She looked at Damien through tear-filled eyes and sighed shakily.  Closing the door, Damien walked over to Scarlett. 

“Hey,” he said gently.  “What’s wrong?”  “Oh Damien,” she said thickly.  “I’m so afraid!”  “Nonsense,” said Damien.  “Why, you’ve probably never been afraid in your life!” “Well I’m afraid now!” she replied.  “I’m… I’m so frightened of you dying out there.”  Damien stroked Scarlett’s long, soft hair.  “Don’t worry about me,” he cooed.  “I’m leaving tomorrow, and you’ll see me when I come back in… oh I’d say six months.”  “But you might be killed!”  Scarlett sobbed.  “Then you’ll be dead, and I won’t ever see you again!”  Damien held Scarlett close, kissing her forehead.  “Scarlett,” he cooed softly.  “I’ll be back before you know it, don’t… don’t you worry about me.”  Scarlett sighed as Damien held and rocked her.  She hoped to God Damien was right, but for now, only time would tell.


	11. Chapter 11

Damien Thorndyke was having a rotten day.  He was waiting, in the rain, for the Yankee lines to form up just outside of Huntingdon.  The Union had moved westward to recapture Pittsburgh.  Damien’s troops had a thousand British troops supporting them, and more were headed west after having taken, with the French’s help, a thin strip along the coast.  While they were pressing west, Damien and his army of thirty thousand were headed east.  After Pennsylvania would come Washington.  As the rain poured down, torches lit up in the distance.  “They’re here,” said Damien.  “Time to introduce them to our friends, I’d say.”  “They outnumber us five to one!” hissed a soldier next to him.  “Not so fast, Smart Alec,” said Damien, holding up a gloved finger.  Damien shook his hat gently, revealing four slow burning fuses.  He lit them with a spare match and smiled as the smoke wreathed his face.  “A little something I learned from Blackbeard,” he said as the northern troops drew closer, and Damien, to enact his plan, ordered a frontal charge.  The men charged, and Damien saw some of the Yankees buckle.  “Oh God!” one of them shouted.  “It’s Thorndyke!  We’re doomed!”

            Damien’s men smashed into the enemy full force.  Some men died on the wall of bayonets, but most of them made it through.  A Union soldier, presumable a fresh recruit, attempted to yank Damien off of his horse.  “Get off my boots!” Damien thundered, whacking the unfortunate boy’s head with his saber’s false edge.  He didn’t kill children, and that soldier couldn’t have been over fourteen.  As Damien’s horse reared and kicked, Damien hacked and slashed, and man and horse worked in unison… until a Union bullet reached the horse’s lung.  Indomitable fell forward, and Damien tumbled off, rolling to his feet.  He ran over to Indomitable, who was screaming and thrashing about.  “Sorry, boy,” said Damien, “but I have to put you out of it.”  He cocked his revolver.  “You were a good horse,” he said as he shot the beast in the head.  “Bastards,” he spat.  He flourished his sword.  “ _You killed my horse_!!” he practically screamed.  “ _You bastards_!  _Come and get me_!”  “With pleasure,” said a voice.

            Damien whirled around.  “My name,” said the stranger, “is Ulysses Simpson Grant.”  “General Grant,” said Damien, “good morning.  Seems you win this round.”  Grant dismounted and smiled.  “Damien Cornelius Thorndyke,” he said politely, “you are now my prisoner.  This way, please.”  Damien managed to maneuver to Grant’s horse.  “No thank you, sir!” he said, mounting.  “I’ve got somewhere else to be!  Hyah!”  The horse sped off, and Grant stared at Thorndyke dumbly.  “Did… did Damien Thorndyke just… steal my horse…?”  “I’ve got his horse!” cried Damien, flourishing his hat.  “I’ve got General Grant’s own horse!  Let’s get the hell out of here boys!”  He whooped triumphantly as his men retreated.  “After them!” cried General Grant, mounting a dead man’s horse and riding out.  “After them!  Pursue, pursue!”

            Damien smiled as he looked back.  “Thanks for the horse, Ulysses!” he cried, laughing in relief at having evaded capture.  He then yelped in pain as a bullet, which he saw had come from Grant’s pistol, caught him in the back of the shoulder, and another bullet found his other shoulderblade.  “You shot me in the back!” he cried.  “God damn it, Grant, you bastard!”  His men fell back behind a hill, and Grant rode closer.  “Through the infantry!” he shouted.  “Get me Thorndyke!”  The infantrymen fell back behind some artillerymen, and the gunners let loose with Damien’s secret weapon… new, faster Gatling guns that were able to swivel more freely.  That was the last thing Damien saw before collapsing from blood loss.

            Scarlett O’Hara had been having nightmares, and was now with her parents and sisters.  They’d just gotten through eating lunch, and Scarlett and her mother were in what would be Scarlett’s bedroom while she was in Pittsburgh.  “There now, sweetheart,” cooed Ellen, “is something the matter?”  “Oh mother!” Scarlett wailed.  “I’m just so worried about Damien… I keep dreaming of him dying in some fashion or another, and when I wake up I’m so afraid they’re true!”  “He’s very special to you,” said Ellen, “isn’t he?”  Scarlett nodded.  “He’s my suitor, and I love him,” Scarlett sobbed.  “Oh, what would I do without him?”  Ellen stroked Scarlett’s hair gently as she lay in her bed, her face buried in her pillow.  “I’m sure you’d find someone else,” said Ellen softly, “someone very special… someone who would make you so happy…”  “I don’t want anyone else!” Scarlett sobbed, shaking her head vigorously.  “I want Damien!”  Ellen sighed gently.  “He’ll be back,” said Ellen.  “I’m sure he will.”  “When he left, he said he’d be gone for six months,” Scarlett sobbed.  “Do you know what can happen in six months, mother?  Oh, God!” “Pity the only women allowed in camp are questionable ones,” said Ellen.  Scarlett sighed shakily as she stopped crying.  Gerald cleared his throat as he entered the room.  “I warn you, Katie Scarlett,” he said as he placed a newspaper on the bedside table.  “This may come to you as a wee bit of a shock.”  Scarlett picked up the newspaper and gasped as her jaw dropped.  She shook her head violently, and then her head fell to the side as the newspaper dropped to the floor.  She had fainted.

**Seems like Scarlett has just received a nasty surprise!**  
**What happened to Damien that shocked her to the point of fainting?**  
 **Stay tuned, keep reading, and find out!**


	12. Chapter 12

Scarlett woke up from her swooning a few minutes later, her mind a frantic mess.  “Oh God!” she cried, startling everyone around her.  “This has to be a nightmare.  Please tell me this is all some horrible nightmare!”  She grabbed her mother’s skirts.  “ _Please_!”  Ellen shook her head.  “They’ve captured him, Scarlett… and we don’t know where he’s being held.”  “God!” Scarlett wailed.  “He… he could be rotting right now in some dark, cold cell, and all for this… this _stupid_ war!”  She curled into a ball and trembled.  “Make it go away…” she pled in a small voice.  She sobbed uncontrollably into her pillow, and her very soul began to ache.  She couldn’t believe it.  Damien was in some horrible Yankee prison camp, possibly getting tortured mercilessly.  Oh, she _hated_ this war!  How dare it take _her Damien_ away from her!  Why, she’d even settle for Ashley being captured instead of him!  “Well cheer up, Scarlett,” siaid Suellen. “Maybe in his escapades along the coast, Vice Admiral Butler will free Damien somehow.  And if he’s inland, perhaps Damien’s cousin Victor can help.”  “Oh,” said Carreen, “well, about that… he’s… he’s recovering in the convalescent ward… where I work…”  She blushed.  “He’s very nice.”  “But at least he’s not been captured!” Scarlett sobbed.  “Why if Damien dies, then… then _I’ll_ die!”  Ellen stroked Scarlett’s hair and spoke to her in soft, soothing tones as Carreen and Suellen left the room.  “Well, Carreen,” said Suellen.  “I _met_ Rhett Butler once, and _he said_ …”

“Oh, mother!” Scarlett sobbed.  “It’s all so unfair!  I… I want Damien to spend forever with me, and the Yankees, they…”  “He’s not dead yet, Scarlett,” Ellen said very gently.  “But they _starve_ people to death in those camps!” Scarlett cried, shaking her head.  “Why did they take him?  I _love_ Damien!  I want to marry him and have his babies!”  “Scarlett…” Ellen cooed.  “I _hate_ this _stupid_ war!” Scarlett shouted into the pillow, pounding her bed with her tiny fists.  “When is this all going to end… _when_?”  “Soon, sweetheart,” Ellen said softly.  “Then Damien will come home and you can get married.”  Scarlett’s breaths came out shakily and heavily.  “You don’t understand!” Scarlett insisted.  “Because Pa’s never been captured by such vile men as they!  He’s always been there!  I’m just so frightened of what they’ll do to him!”  “He always came back from out west before the war,” said Ellen.  “Do you remember that?”  “At least the Indians could be reasoned with!” Scarlett sobbed.  “So of course Damien always came back!  And when… when he gives me that special smile, and… and he holds me so tenderly… I know there’s not a thing in the world that can go wrong!  But I can still feel his arms around me even after they took him!”  Ellen sat next to Scarlett and held her hand, still stroking her hair. 

Scarlett stopped crying after a while and rolled over, sitting up, slipping her dainty feet into her shoes.  “I know what I have to do,” she said firmly.  “Where are you going?”  Scarlett looked at her mother.  “I shall dress like a yankee, and go north,” she said.  “I’ll find employ at that prison camp, and free Damien.  They’ll never suspect a woman!”  “If I may,” said Mammy, waddling in on the scene.  “I’ll tell you who they’ll s’pect even less.”  She smiled proudly. “They’s _never_ gonna suspect a _black_ woman!  They may be on some fool crusade, but mark me, they still got negative opinions toward my kind.  I’m goin’ with you!”  Scarlett smiled.  “Good idea,” she said.  “I’ll draw up a paper that says you’re free, and then, when we return, you’ll be in my service again.”  “Temporary freedom for a cause,” said Mammy.  “I like it.  Now… you’re gonna have to perfect your accent.  Yankee misses don’t have no drawl!”  Ellen left, and Mammy and Scarlett stayed and talked.  “You hear how those northern girls talk, just make like you’re from Pennsylvania and tryin’ to get away from those gray coated traitors.  Make real meek-like and then find out where Thorndyke’s bein’ held.”  “I’ll say I want to meet the legend for myself,” said Scarlett, masking her voice with an Irish accent.  “Me name’s Elizabeth Kelly, and me parents landed from Dublin durin’ the Famine.  Now let’s go free us a Southern general.”

Damien Thorndyke was not happy.  He’d been languishing in Fort Warren for a month now, and although, as a general, he was being treated well, he was definitely losing weight.  All he had for entertainment was a Bible and a deck of cards.  Most of his time was spent playing solitaire, reading scripture, and devising ways to escape while giving his enemy false information.  A small orchestra had formed from a group of Confederate prisoners, and they were now playing a slow rendition of “Lorena.”  Damien sighed.  That song always made him think of Scarlett.  He had to get back to her, one way or another.  He heard some conversation at the camp’s front gate and turned to listen to it.  “Well, Miss Kelly,” said a guard, “I’d say you’ve come to the right place.  General Thorndyke is resting comfortably in our care, and when the war is over, we’ll be returning him south.  Beats me why.  He should be hanged for treason.”  The woman smiled.  “Well now,” she said in her Irish accent.  “Knowing the Hellcat, he’ll probably run out, breathe fire, shoot lightning from his hands and walk right out the front gate.”  The soldiers laughed.  “A lady with a sense of humor!” one remarked.  “You’ll be sewing uniforms for the men… separate from the prisoners, of course.  They haven’t seen a lady in years, some of them.”  “I just want to meet Damien Thorndyke, honestly.  Of course I’ll work for you, but…”  “Well, I hear he’s extremely polite when it comes to women, as all southern men are,” said a soldier.  “He’s over there.”  The woman walked towards Damien, who sighed.  God, he looked awful… and this woman wanted to meet him…

“Hello,” said the woman in her Irish accent, closing the door to his small quarters.  She then smiled and whispered.  “Damien!”  Damien stood up slowly.  “My God,” he said softly.  “It can’t be…”  He smiled and whispered excitedly… “ _Scarlett_?!  What are _you_ doing here?”  “I’ve come to get you out,” said Scarlett softly.  “I’m sewing uniforms… and I’m going to try to find yours… and your weapons.  I’ve got news from home.”  She handed Damien a piece of paper and smiled.  “I should get to work,” she said as he kissed her cheek.  She pecked his lips and left.  “He seems like a really nice fellow,” she said, resuming her Irish accent as a group of soldiers walked past.  “But I should get to workin’.”  Damien smiled.  This wouldn’t be easy, but hopefully it would work, and he’d soon be free and fighting.  He opened the folded piece of paper and smiled when a lock of Scarlett’s hair fell into his lap.

Damien-  
I write this to you with great risk to my own life, but you need to stay abreast of what’s going on.  The war is going well, and we’ve made gains in Ohio and are pushing into New York.  You missed the Battle of Gettysburg.  It was one of our greatest victories!  The O’Haras are doing well, and Carreen is currently seeing to your cousin Victor at the convalescent ward at which she works.  She seems very taken with him, as she becomes shy and giddy at the mention of his name.  Suellen’s upset because Frank Kennedy died at Gettysburg, but before Rhett Butler left to ravage the coast (He’ll hopefully be in Boston soon) he met Suellen, and the two are getting along nicely.  Here’s hoping Rhett finds love before his life is out.  He and I have spoken, and he deserves it after what he’s been through.  Ashley is currently stationed in Ohio, and Melly’s worried sick.  She knows you’ve been captured, and is praying for your safety every day.  I hear that another army is pushing towards Washington.  That’s all the news I have.  I love you, and I _will_ free you, Damien.  Hopefully, Rhett or Ashley will, too.  
Yours in haste,  
-Scarlett O’Hara  
P.S. Destroy this letter. It contains sensitive information.

Damien burned the letter in the little fireplace and placed the lock of hair in a drawer in his desk.  Hopefully, Scarlett would soon find his uniform and gear, and if either force arrived at Boston, he’d start a riot and distract the guards so they couldn’t fight the invasion as well.  And when it was over, Damien would ride south with an army and join the attack on Washington.  Then, the war would be over, the Confederacy would be victorious, and he’d be back home, a husband, and hopefully soon after, a father.  He smiled, his morale still rising.  He’d give the Yankees a hell of a time for taking him prisoner!


	13. Chapter 13

Scarlett O’Hara had been thinking of how to break Damien out of this dreadful fort… and she had developed a plan in her pretty little head.  It was the middle of the night, she had been summoned to the commandant’s office… and she knew why.  Commandant Lysander Jones was notorious for his escapades with women… and he wanted her.  Scarlett, in her guise as Elizabeth Kelly, had not been anticipating this, but since her plan was to cause chaos… she’d start by severing the head of the snake.  “Hello, Lizzy,” he said.  “You know why I called you hear.”  Scarlett smiled.  “Why yes,” she said in her feigned Irish accent.  “I do.  And you may not know this… but I really… _really_ … like army officers.”  Jones smiled as he lay back on the bed with a groan.  “Where does it hurt, sweetheart?” she cooed, eagerly disrobing herself down to her corset.  She crawled on top of him, and he smiled. 

“Well now,” he purred.  “Since you asked… it hurts right…”  He grabbed her hand and moved it down his form.  “Here.”  Scarlett began unlacing her corset as she let out soft moans, rocking her hips in time with his.  Lysander, thoroughly enjoying the experience, groaned as he closed his eyes.  “Just relax…” Scarlett whispered as she reached into a hidden pocket.  “Just relax…”  She slowly… silently… drew a small knife.  She pressed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart throbbing rapidly.  She smiled as she withdrew her hand and plunged the knife where it had been.  Jones snapped out of his trance, staring at Scarlett in wide-eyed shock.  “You… you…” he choked out, blood filling his lungs.  She smiled.  “I’m not Elizabeth Kelly,” she purred, her southern accent returning.  Lysander thrashed his head about on the pillow.  “I’m Scarlett O’Hara… and imprisoning Damien Thorndyke… that was a mistake.”  She smiled and kissed his forehead.  “You should’ve killed him.  Oh… but then you’d still be screaming.”  She twisted the knife and smiled as he began to die.  “You Yankee son of a bitch,” she growled, spitting on his corpse when he expired.  She wiped the knife on his trousers, slid the knife back into its pocket, and dressed herself once again, leaving the room.

            “General, I done found your uniform and weapons.”  Damien Thorndyke turned to face the source of the voice.  “Am I imagining things?” he said softly.  “Do I _look_ like a haunt?” Mammy retorted, laying Damien’s things on the table.  “I’m goin’ to free the others now.  _You_ git dressed.”  Damien did so, and when he left the small shack that had served as his quarters for the past three months, he had his sword in his hand, rage in his heart, and hatred on his face.  By this time, some Confederate prisoners had been freed, and were stealthily cutting Union throats.  Damien silently crept on a northern officer and tapped him on the shoulder.  “Yes, soldier?” he said.  He then gasped.  “Oh my God…” he whispered.  Damien plunged his blade into the man’s gut and grinned.  “Y’all shoulda killed me when you had the chance, you son of a bitch,” he purred.  “What’s going on here?!” demanded another officer.  Damien drew his revolver.  “Get back, you bastard!” Damien barked.  “Put your weapons on the ground and your hands where I can see ‘em or I’ll blow your god-damned head off!”  The officer drew his revolver, prompting Damien to shoot him in the collarbone.  The man yelped.  Damien smiled and stepped closer.  “You don’t hear so good, do you, boy,” he said flatly.  “Jaysus, Hellcat!” hissed a Confederate sergeant.  “You’ll wake the whole camp!”  Damien grinned wickedly as he pressed the tip of the sword to the enemy officer’s neck.  “You bluecoats best quit stalkin’ me,” he said.  Fighting could now be heard throughout the camp.  The riot had begun in earnest.

Damien drew his revolver and joined the frolic, shooting three Yankee soldiers dead.  He made his way to the command center and dealt with the guards.  It was a bit of a long, intricate fight, like a complex dance of death, but Damien prevailed… even though he’d received wounds on his shoulders.  By the time he reached the Commandant’s chamber, he had acquired a wound on each cheek that would probably scar.  “Dueling scars!” he said to himself.  “Hot damn!”  He opened the door and entered slowly.  “What do you think _you’re_ doing?” demanded a woman’s voice.  Damien knew it… it was Scarlett’s.

            “Nothing, if the commandant’s dead.”  Scarlett lowered her knife and threw her arms around her neck, finally able to give him a proper greeting.  Her pent-up grief and anger at the situation manifested in the form of a deep, passionate kiss.  Her breathing became very heavy as Damien pressed her to his frame.  “Oh Damien!” she said happily.  “I thought I’d never see you again!”  “Oh ye of little faith,” Damien retorted.  “At any rate I…” “Damien,” Scarlett said, smiling.  “You need to eat something.  You’re the scrawniest I’ve ever seen you.”  “Thorndyke!” a voice thundered.  “Thorndyke, you son of a bitch!”  Damien whirled around.  “General Grant,” he said.  “Good evening.  Have you decided to join the…” _BOOM!!_   Cannons sounded, and Damien smiled.  Rhett Butler and his fleet had arrived… and they were battle-hungry.  “We’re here, Ulysses,” said Damien triumphantly.  “Prepare to lose Boston!”  Grant leveled his revolver.  “Not if _I_ have anything to say about it.”  He smiled, his eyes flashing.  “ _Goodbye, Damien Cornelius Thorndyke_!!” he screamed.  Scarlett jumped in front of Damien, gasping.  “ _Noooo_!!” she screamed in reply.  Grant shot, and Scarlett’s body became rigid.  As it went limp, she let out a mix between a groan and a gasp.  Damien drew his revolver and shot a surprised grant in the chest.  Scarlett fell into Damien’s arms limply as a red flower blossomed from the center of her chest.  Damien caught her and cradled her in his arms.  “Damien,” she said as she trembled, gasping for air.  “Don’t… don’t leave…”  She gasped, tilting her head back.  He cupped her face in his hand and held her close as Confederate soldiers appeared from the hall.  “Scarlett?” he said firmly, shaking her.  “Stay with me.  Scarlett?”  He patted her cheek, jostling her head as she struggled to keep her eyes open.  “Scarlett!”

**Is this it?**   
**Is Scarlett gone with the wind?**   
**Keep reading and find out!**


End file.
